


Change of Scenery

by smothermeinrelish



Category: McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bars and Pubs, Broken marriage, Friends to Lovers, John is sad, M/M, McLennon, Office Romance, Paul is eccentric and John is enamoured, Slow Burn, Yoko is a workaholic, job relocation, looking for happiness again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smothermeinrelish/pseuds/smothermeinrelish
Summary: After a job relocation moves John and his family to London from New York, he takes the new surroundings as a chance to rebuild his happiness.  After years of being a stay at home father, he starts over again.  Growing relationships at his new job builds the tension at home.Paul is a free spirit working with his best friend Richard Starkey, at a small PR firm in Kensington, he is intrigued by the new American who's friendship evolves quickly and comfortably.  He's content with his life, but since John's arrived he's now questioning everything, including his growing feelings that are more than just platonic.
Relationships: George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, John Lennon & Sean Lennon, John Lennon & Yoko Ono, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Robert Fraser/ Paul McCartney
Comments: 46
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea rolling around for a while. Like my other fics, a WIP and depending on the inspiration is when I update. 
> 
> This will be a slow burn, in a modern AU setting, so if that's not your thing, just be aware.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, comments and suggestions are always appreciated and a lifeline to fic writers.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!

Tearing into the plastic packaging tape, exposing yet another white set of tea cups and saucers. Christ, how many more boxes of white dishes did they have? Since the move, John was convinced he had unpacked and shelved hundreds of dishes. Making little sense, since even before they relocated to London, they never hosted parties or gatherings meriting more than a half dozen guests at a time. Even during holidays, it remained quiet and sterile. 

When the opportunity arose for Yoko to accept a position in London, no one was more excited for the move than John. Since their marriage had progressed, his career had slowly taken a backseat to hers. At first, he didn’t mind. Helping with the baby, keeping the house tidy, buying groceries. The role of a house husband was alright, but after five years of the solitude and lack of contributing, he had grown tired of the job. With a new start and a valid visa, he was chomping at the bit to find a career of his own.

Sean had started at primary school, in their posh Knightsbridge neighborhood, so for the last three weeks, John had dropped off and picked up their son. In the hours between, he had dropped his portfolio of designs to various marketing and ad agencies he could research on google. Prior to agreeing to be the stay at home parent, he had a fairly steady position with a large design firm in Manhattan, specializing in social media content. When he got a phone call from a small public relations group near their flat, he jumped at the chance to interview.

After the informal meeting and an offer, John felt alive, more so than he had in years. He was going to work again, creatively. The thought filled him with joy, and while he unpacked more of their dishes he decided that night over take out sushi, he would tell Yoko of his intentions. 

She sipped her glass of sauvignon blanc, coolly thinking of the right words to express her concern, “Darling, why would you want to go back to an office job, when you have all of London at your doorstep?” John clenched his jaw around the chewy tuna sashimi in his mouth. “Because, now that Sean has started school, I need an outlet, it’s just something to do a purpose, ya’ know? Also, you forget I had all of New York at my doorstep, and I rarely ventured out of our neighborhood.” He tried sounding nonchalant as he hurriedly spilled his reasoning, before she could dissuade him further.

Reminding himself, with the new start in London, he was going to do something for himself, make himself happy. He had been the supportive spouse and father, now was the time for him to jump back into the things that made him happy. Although, very few people liked working, there was the freedom he missed. “I’m not sure how I feel about this.” Her words were an act of finality, he knew that tone. The same tone she used when closing a business deal. For her to be adamant about John not working, she tended to bring her job into their marriage daily.

Not to cower into her wishes, John kept his head high, and after another sip of his wine, “Well, I already told them I’d start next Wednesday.” Her head snapped so fast, he expected a chopstick to fly across the table. “You did what?” her soft voice raising an octave. “Yeah, I still plan on picking up Sean from school, don’t worry.” He preemptively cleared that, since Sean was still his priority. Poor lad barely saw his mother, case in point, dinner at nine pm with the news on the television and Sean asleep before Yoko even got home from the office.

She said nothing else, just stood up with the used dishes and proceeded to the kitchen sink. John finished his tempura, and smugly congratulated himself on standing up to his wife. The first time in years, and he felt damn proud of himself. So proud in fact, that he poured himself another glass of wine to celebrate his new career. 

With Yoko locked away in her office, John had another night by himself. He lied in bed, reading a book on ancient Rome he had purchased from the museum giftshop the other day when he and Sean had visited the British Museum. It had been two months since the move, and not once had Yoko tried to spend time with them when she had time away from the office. Even now, she told John she had to prepare for a presentation to the French bankers she would be visiting in two weeks. Probably another reason why she didn’t want John to take a job, she was going to be traveling more than usual (if that was possible).

He realized a few years back that their marriage was of convenience, intimacy had left their relationship shortly after Sean was born. She had told John she didn’t care if he had sexual encounters with other people, her bohemian lifestyle gave her the ability to separate marriage and sex as two separate endeavors. He had never taken her up on the permission to stray, although deep down he knew that there had been other men, which made her business trips harder to swallow. While an outsider would see the marriage as an unconventional mess, John tried to remind himself, “It could be worse.” 

Except now, with an unfamiliar city, an even more absent wife, John had a strange twinge of yearning. To have that excitement again of butterflies when you see someone for the first time after they sparked a connection with you. He rolled over in the chilled room, turning off the light to fall asleep alone again in his marriage bed. Viewing the rain splattering on the window, he heard the sound of traffic in the street. Even though it was quieter than New York, he still enjoyed the sounds of the city.

Next week it would all change, he was going to make the most of the opportunity, find purpose and perhaps social interaction with people other than a five-year-old and distant wife. He nestled further into the duvet smiling with anticipation.

***************

Wednesday at eight am found John in a new suit and messenger bag, clutching a to go cup of coffee as he dropped off Sean at school. Giving his son a hug and kiss to the top of his head, “I’ll see you right here, after school okay luv?” Sean beamed at his father, “Have a good day at your new work, Daddy!” With that, John said goodbye, as Sean hurried through the school gates.  
With a few minutes to spare, John arrived at the PR group nervous with clammy hands. He tried to remain confident, he had shown merit and creativity and they wanted him to join the design team, now was not the time to show insecurity. Being greeted again by the traffic manager May, he said good morning as he made his way into the office space, towards Mr. Starkey’s office, the man who hired him on the spot.

Standing outside of a few cubicles with a mug of tea in hand, he broke away from the conversations he was having with some younger staff members. “AH! John, there you are? Welcome, good morning, did you find a place to park? The lot says you need a permit, but I told them you were starting and they should let you stay.” Clearing his throat of nerves, John replied, “Uh, no actually, I live just a few blocks from here, so it’s pretty convenient.” “Well that’s great news, less headache when you don’t have a commute, right?” 

Slapping John’s shoulder, a bit hard, John didn’t take much alarm as Mr. Starkey introduced John to two copywriters, Jane and Maureen or “Mo, if it pleases you so?” she replied as she shook his hand. “Nice to meet you both.” He nodded politely, his quaff of auburn curls shaking a bit as his brow perspired with first day jitters. Pushing his thick framed glasses up his slightly sweaty nose, he smiled at the two young ladies, pretty cute if he was being honest with himself. A hint of blush colored his cheeks, as he stood up a bit taller to give the girls a better view. His confidence was running over in his tailored suit.

“C’mon John, I’ll show you to your workspace.” Politely excusing himself from the two ladies, he heard a faint giggle as he walked away, probably checking out his ass, which if he said so, looked pretty damn good in his tight pants. Walking further down the corridor, they arrived at a glass walled office, that contained three artist easel desks, complete with new Mac books at each station. One person was seated with ear buds in, and his back to the door. “Here is where you will be sitting, but don’t let that confine you, the laptops are so you can go where you feel comfortable. We have a few common areas on this floor and upstairs, so work where you’d like.” John looked around the room, waiting for the other man to acknowledge their presence.

Removing his ear buds, the lad nodded at John. “Hiya, I’m Pete.” Shaking John’s hand, he smiled then proceeded to turn back to his task and reinserted his ear buds. “Man of few words, huh?” John lightly joked. “Too right you are, Pete’s a good guy, but don’t expect much conversation from him.” Turning to the other desk in the space, “George is the other designer in the group. He usually comes in a bit later, has a florist business with his wife, so in summer seasons he’s only in part time.” “That’s nice that you are accommodating, I think I mentioned how I need to leave to pick up my son.” John reminded Mr. Starkey. “Oh yes, no problem there, just let me know if there is a day or time you need off.” So far, this was a much different pace than his previous place of work. Perhaps things changed in five years, or they just didn’t expect you to live at the office like they did in the US.

Looking around the room a bit more, he looked out the glass windows at a person making their way up the open staircase to the second floor. He didn’t know why his attention caught to this particular individual. Perhaps it was the colorful sweater vest he wore, bright pastels, swirling colors that popped against a sky-blue long-sleeved dress shirt. So different than everyone else in black and gray. Could also have been the way his long legs almost skipped up the stairs, like a character in a story book, hopping. He was brought back to the present when Mr. Starkey asked him to join him for lunch that day, along with a few other department heads. “Absolutely, just let me know where to meet up with you.”

His morning was spent getting familiar with the office, talking a bit more with the cute copywriters and meeting George, his other office mate. When lunch time rolled around, John met Mr. Starkey, or Richie as he preferred to be called, and two other staff members, Neil and Mal. As they headed out the door for lunch, Richie asked May at the main desk, “Was Paul going to join us for lunch today?” She clicked open her computer window, “It appears he has it down on his calendar, it says, ‘will meet at restaurant’”. “Ah good, ok lads he will meet us there, let’s go!”

Walking a few blocks in the spring air was nice, as John acclimated himself to the neighborhood, they ducked into a traditional pub, cliché with the special being fish and chips. Sitting in a booth, Richie ordered a round of beers. John was liking the business lunches in London, before noon and already tying one on! As the four men spoke and bantered, John divulged a bit about the move over from New York, his wife’s career and a few more on the surface tidbits about his mundane life thus far.

About half way through his pint, out of the corner of his eye, the bright colors of a sweater vest with a striped scarf clashing in the breeze, strode into the pub to join the group. “You lot are terrible, can’t even wait til after twelve, tsk tsk.” Taking the open spot right next to John, the chipper man got quite close, with his thigh brushing briefly against John’s before leaning away, realizing he had gotten too near. Looking down to the seat where their knees had knocked, he popped his head up peering directly into John’s face. 

With a moment to gather his thoughts, John was surprised with the face of the man. So soft, but a bit of shadow from where he had ignored shaving, still appearing baby faced. What caught John was just how bright his eyes were, like the psychedelic pattern of his loud sweater vest, his eyes swirled with greens and amber, pulling John in with the arch of a perfect raven eyebrow and endless lashes that nearly touched his socket. Dare he gaze too long, but the androgynous mystery of the man’s features continued enrapture John’s stare. The stranger on the other end of the ogling, seemed to study John just as carefully as he was being inspected.

Breaking the exchange of glances, Mal had let out a hearty laugh, sending the earth back into rotation. “Isn’t that right, Meticulous Macca!?” With a smug tug of his pouty smirk, the dark-haired man, fell into the conversation like he hadn’t missed a beat. “You’re one to talk, I think you re-edited that youtube promo fifty times!” Unsure of what the conversation entailed, John cleared his throat, rather loud. “Oh, shit sorry, Macca, this is John. He just moved here from New York, starting in the design group with George and Pete.” Turning once again to move in a bit closer to John, the hand of the man extended to him, taking the long fingers into his clammy (how did that happen?) palm. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Paul.” Once again, his eyes locked with an intensity he rarely felt when meeting anyone. “John Lennon, pleasure.” Playing off the shake with a nod and wink, he swore the apples of Paul’s cheeks stained. 

Trying to lure more words from the man nicknamed ‘Macca’ he asked, “So Paul, what do you do, in the office?” “More like what doesn’t he do?!” Mal and Neil seemed halfcocked already with their empty pints in front of them. “Piss off you lot!” Paul’s smile and laugh were infectious, he had an aura around him that obviously had charmed his colleagues. “Well, I’m technically chief editor, but I’ve been known to do a bit of creative work, and composition for some clients.” He spoke confidently, but hunched into himself, like a sheepish child. 

“Like music? You compose songs?” Consider John impressed. “His bloody office is like a music studio, I think he just sits up there learning how to play all those instruments and avoids actual work.” Richie chimed in, “He’s also in me band.” “Ey, it’s MY band!” Paul stretched across the table to flick Richie’s ear. “You two play in a group? That’s cool, I used to play, eons ago with friends in college.” John noticed the change in Paul’s mood, as he settled back at his side. “What do you play?” “Oh, I played guitar, and a bit of banjo, but like I said it’s been years, I haven’t even picked it up since we moved here.” John brushed off the conversation. 

“Now you’ve done it!” Mal hollered, “Look at the wheels turning, he’s going to pounce on you and make you be in his band!” The analogy of pouncing resonated, and John looked back towards Paul. It did appear that something was turning in his brain. His smugness, remained collected, before he spoke again. “Can you come to our jam session? Friday night? My brother owns a pub in Chelsea, the Humble Flea, not far from here. We play a bit of rock and roll, drink a few pints. What do ya’ say? With an Elvis quaff and those Buddy Holly glasses, you are a classic American rocker, John.” 

He made a strong case, as if he read right through to John’s love of all things Elvis, Buddy Holly and Little Richard. It seemed as if Paul was holding his breath, waiting for John’s response. The other guys had broken away from the conversation, and it appeared that Paul and him were the only two in the booth. His stomach did a somersault, like he tripped on a step, before he plucked the courage and spoke the first thing he could think of, “What time?” he squinted slightly, not wanting to sound too eager. With a pat on his suited shoulder, Paul’s slender fingers lingered a bit longer, and John felt the warmth of a light squeeze of excitement. “Come by at 9, and we’ll go from there.” Paul looked giddy, as he bit his lip, holding back excitement.

“Sounds like a plan.” A damn good plan, John thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can't stop thinking about this story, and managed to write another chapter today!
> 
> Thank you for the feedback, and suggestions. I hope you like where this is going :)

After picking up Sean from school on Friday, John arrived home to find Yoko waiting for them. “You’re home early?” John somewhat surprised with her presence. “I figured maybe we could spend some time together, you can tell me all about how your first days at work were.” She gave him a genuine smile, one he hadn’t seen for a long time. “Alright, why don’t we take a walk to the Portrait Gallery.” Met with Sean’s excited cheers, they all took a family stroll in the spring air.

The time together was nice, and maybe the nice weather had a bit to help. Regardless, Yoko was chatty, and inquiring about how he was liking his new position. Asking questions about the people, and the type of work he would be doing. John let his guard down and tried to enjoy the feeling of normalcy that passersby would observe to their family unit.

It wasn’t until they were home, after a nice meal at a Lebanese restaurant, that John felt that rising suspicion of her concerns. They gave Sean a bath, something that they hadn’t done together for some time. Yoko read books to the boy, and spent time listening to him discuss his day and playmates he had made. The young boy seemed giddy at the idea his mother was home to tuck him in.

When she settled her son in, she poured a glass of wine in the kitchen while John stood on the veranda, overlooking their private greenspace in the dark. Thinking to himself, he should plant some flowers in the bare planters, he’d maybe ask George on Monday about what he’d recommend in the London climate. 

Breaking his thoughts, she wrapped her arms around his waist, bringing her cheek to his back. Giving a gentle squeeze, “I’ve missed this time with you.” Caressing her hands with his own now, he was enjoying the contact.

While Yoko was caught up in her moment of affection, John had a sour thought cross his mind. For he knew this was her way to pull him back, make him regret the new path he was taking. Rather than enjoy the tiny window of marital bliss, he knew her too well, he knew this game.

“Yes, it was quite good today, spending time with Sean, the three of us.” John lightened his moment of suspected sabotage. “I want to do this more, John. I’ve missed us. I’ve missed you.” When she said the words, her hands splayed across his abdomen, with intentions of moving lower. Closing his eyes, “Why are you doing this?” He spoke softly, remaining strong in his conviction.

All at sudden she separated, John turning to face her. “What do you mean by that?!” she snapped at his request. “I mean, you. This act? Look, we both know that our marriage has been over for years, what can you gain from this?” an exasperated reply. “I’m trying John, don’t you see that this is me trying to make you happy.” 

So now she cares about his happiness. Nineteen months of couple’s therapy, and she never could budge on giving him a chance to explore hobbies or social events, things to help him out of his depression. Of course, now when he isn’t under her thumb, she cares about his happiness. Amazing how that works out.

“Please John, I want you to feel fulfilled. If this job is what it will take, then I am supportive of it.” He couldn’t deny his feelings were conflicted, could he trust her intentions? “This is my new start, okay? New York wasn’t good anymore, this is us starting over and it’s going to take me a while until we repair what was broken for so long. Do you see why I’m holding back?”

She nodded, the tears in her eyes showed him that she understood her months of neglect had caused damage. “I understand.” She turned, and left the room.

Heading back out to the balcony, he took deep breaths. He was doing it, saying everything he had needed to say to her for so long. He wouldn’t be reeled in, he couldn’t let her have the upper hand again. 

Noticing his wristwatch, it was after eight pm. Although the mood he was in didn’t fare for a night of jamming with new co-workers, he needed an outlet. Rummaging through the closet in the spare bedroom, he grabbed his dusty guitar case.

He met Yoko in the foyer, coming in from the front steps, he could smell the clove cigarettes on her hair and skin. Her red, puffy eyes peered at him before she meekly asked, “Where are you going?” He didn’t want another opportunity for her to stop his intentions.

“I’ve been invited to a jam session, a few guys at the office play at a pub in Chelsea, and they asked me to come.” He sounded nonchalant, and could tell she was furious, the slight flair in her nostrils giving her away. “You can’t just leave, what about Sean?!” Her helplessness was almost comical. He chuckled slightly as he changed his shoes into his black Converse, setting his case on the floor momentarily.

“He’s asleep, and you’re here. I think you will survive, I mean, you haven’t cooked him dinner or washed his clothes, or taught him to tie his shoes, but I’m confident if he wakes up you can keep an eye on him until I’m back.” “Fuck you, John.” She spat at him, as she walked into the living room.

He couldn’t find it in himself to let her mood dissuade him. He had been looking forward to this since the lunch meeting when Paul invited him. No way was that woman going to dampen his spirits.

****************************************

The bar was impossible to find, being misguided by his Google Maps, he finally found it down an alley close off a side street. By the looks of it, the building was ancient, probably one of the first ones in Chelsea. A few stories high, the pub was underground.

When he pushed the heavy wooden door open, the musty warmth of it spilled onto him. Quaint with the slight smell of hops and weed hanging on the thick air. Looking around, it reminded him of an old Irish pub he lurked around in while he was at NYU, drinking dollar tall boys of PBR with his dorm mates. He liked it, and the sounds of the Grateful Dead playing from a vintage jukebox, just made him all the more pleased he had made the effort.

“Johnny Be Gooooood!!!!” Turning to see Richie approaching him, “Hey mate, you made it, ahh and you brought your guitar.” Rubbing his hands together, like a giddy child at Christmas. “Yeah, well, need to let her breath in this new atmosphere, hope I’m not too rusty for you.” John was a bit nervous, if these guys had been friends for years, he worried he might not mesh with their style. “Nah, don’t worry, we aren’t too serious. Or at least George and I aren’t, Macca is a bit of a perfectionist, but that’s just his nature.” As he weaved John towards the bar, he continued to study the patrons, quite a mix of old and young, not intimidating like so many New York bars. 

“Hey uh, why do you call him Macca?” John had heard the nickname more than his actual name. “It’s a play on his last name, McCartney, Irish bastard, he got it in school and it just stuck.” A pint appeared in front of him, cheering his glass, Richie took a healthy slug.

“Did you guys all go to school together?” Taking a drink of his beer. “Yeah, we’re from Liverpool, originally, George, Paul and I. When I started this company, I asked them to come along, and we’ve all just stayed together. Pretty daft huh?” John craned his neck over to the corner where he saw a concentrating George, tuning an electric Gretsch. “Liverpool? Hey, wasn’t there a band in the sixties that were really popular from there?” John now turning back to Richie, “Fuckin’ Gerry and the Pacemakers, yes, and if you go back there, you are bombarded with their memorabilia every bleedin’ place you go!” His lack of care for the band mentioned was humorous to John.

When John peered back over to George, Paul had joined him, and now he was staring. Watching as he tuned his bass, his hair combed back, styled a bit like a teddy boy from the fifties. He was wearing a black t-shirt, tight, the way it hugged his shoulders and lanky arms. When his back turned, John caught himself checking out the dark blue jeans he wore, cuffed at the ankles showing off two tone wingtips. As his eyes travelled higher, he took a moment to appreciate the way his hip popped out, flaunting a bit of his taunt ass. 

When John took a breath and continued his gaze, he was met dead on with the kaleidoscope eyes of Paul, who had obviously caught John staring at him. His face flushed ten shades of red, and while he failed to turn away and break the gawking, Paul just bit teasingly on his bottom lip. Tilting his head into a small smile, the boy winked at him. Hoping he could play off his pervy stares on his shitty eyesight, he bent down to gather his guitar, pint in hand, and sauntered over to join the flirtatious prick.

Not waiting for an invitation, he set down his beer on an amp, and proceeded to get out his guitar. No more than a few seconds passed, and he felt a presence at his side, knowing it was Paul’s he decided to beat him to the punch. “Nice place, this. Those your groupies?” Nodding towards a table of older gentlemen that could have been old hippies, or wizards from Harry Potter.

“Fuck off, you.” As he pushed John in his shoulder, his high-pitched laugh told him otherwise. Paul was one of those people with a great laugh, his eyes scrunched up and his whole body moved with the emotion. John liked seeing him smile, it felt genuine, like he really enjoyed John’s presence.

Tuning up quickly, Richie had joined them behind his trap set. A few instructions over what they were going to start with, John hoped he could keep up. Fortunately, they were sticking with the classics, Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent and a few Elvis songs. With a single microphone stand, Paul shimmied up to it and counted them off.

For not playing in several months, John was on his game, strumming with confidence, and taking it all in. Paul was incredible, he owned the stage. Being left handed, he found himself a mirror image to him when they would jam longer, reading each other with nods of the head and communicating with ease. George was a talented lead guitarist, and nailed the Chuck Berry solos with ease. He was having the time of his life, laughing when he hit a bum chord, not the least feeling stupid when Paul laughed with him. It felt like he had been playing with Paul for years, and felt the heat in his cheeks every time he smiled at him across the stage.

When they took a break after several songs. The whole energy of the room seemed to radiate, the small crowd wasn’t overly loud, but John couldn’t have cared less, he was on cloud nine. They meshed so well together, never before had he played so effortlessly with a new group of musicians.

“John, you’re a bloody phenomenon, you are!” Richie side hugged him, as they bellied closer to the bar. “You’re quite the legend yourself Richie. George? Was Chuck Berry reincarnated into you? Cause that was fucking amazing!” His face was sore from smiling, and when Paul joined them, he casually slipped his arm around John’s sweaty lower back, clinking a shot of whiskey in front of him. Not to lose the momentum, he took it, and loved the way the liquid warmed his chest and belly. Paul’s arm remained touching him, and he couldn’t tell if it was the buzz of the spirits, or the high from the performance, but he leaned back into it, touching more of the man.

“So, John, are you going to sing one next?” Paul asked curiously. The hand on John’s back splaying wider, fingers catching the belt loop of his denim. His pulse beat in his ears, as he was aware of the proximity of Paul’s body. A sudden realization of how this looked, playing into the touches, the chemistry that was radiating off of them. He wanted it, wanted this feeling to last all night.

Taking a few deep gulps of his amber beer as a chaser, the droplets of sweat dripped down his neck from his sideburns. He felt Paul’s gaze bore into him, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple, and when he slammed the pint glass down with more momentum than he anticipated, he swore a groan of want resonated from the man next to him. “Paulie.” George and Richie laughed at the nickname John had given him. “I thought you’d never ask.” And with his response, he playfully slapped the bright pink cheek of the baby-faced bass player.

When John got up on the stage for the next set, he was feeling amazing, and a bit rowdy. Shimmying up to the microphone, “This one is for all the lovers out there” Met with a few cheers and wolf whistles, he broke into one of his favorites. Aiming his sights right at Paul, he kept his gaze as he began, “We-helllllll, Be Bop-A-Lu-La, She’s my Baby…..Be-Bop-A-Lu-la, I don’t mean maybe. Be-bop-a-lu-lah shee hee’s mah baby love, mah baby love…”. The group kept in time as he killed it with his Gene Vincent tribute. 

Seductive as he could be, he looked out over the audience, but didn’t fail to miss the way Paul studied him, challenged him. All the while playing his instrument, and licking his lips when John wrapped his mouth closer to the old microphone. If the coy looks and gazes were a game before, John considered this little performance foreplay. From the moment he met Paul, the guy had fascinated him, and watching him on the stage was just about all John could take. With conflicting thoughts, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up with the building tension. He finished the song with an enticing look to Paul and a half hard dick from the thrill of it.

As the night wore on, more drinks were consumed, and the songs became less tight and more bluesy, which suited John just fine. The crowd had cleared from the pub, but the four of them continued to play. Switching to Muddy Waters and Duane Eddy, the haze of alcohol was slowing their movements, and soon Richie was ready to call it a night. Packing up their equipment, Paul motioned George and John with him to the side door, after Richie left to head home.

The night was damp, rain must have fallen while they played, feeling humid on their sweaty skin. Looking up and down the alley, Paul procured from his t-shirt pocket a perfectly rolled fat joint. Sparking it, he took a deep inhale before passing it to John. He took a deep toke, letting the earthy taste fill his chest and head with the euphoric sensation, it had been years since he got high, God, he missed it. George took a pull before it made its way around the circle again.

They smoked and discussed the great jam session, it felt good to play again. John relished in the fact that he was a part of something, even as minimal as this little band was. George parted from them with the notion ‘Macca’ would hold onto his guitar until he saw him again on Sunday, and then there were two.

Clearing his throat, John was stoned and was slightly paranoid to say something stupid to Paul. He shuffled his feet, peering down towards the intersection, thinking of taking a taxi back home. “That was pretty great tonight. You, uh, you’re really damn good.” Biting his lip with an air of a laugh, he ran his fingers through his wild hair, curly from sweat and adrenaline. “I mean, thanks for inviting me to play with you guys,” he sighed heavily, “I really needed this.”

Paul leaned against the dewy stone wall of the alley, looking cooler than a boy that pretty had the right to. John just looked at him, anticipating. When his eyes dipped, the fan of his lashes magnified infinitely from the street light reflecting. John found himself holding his breath, not for what Paul was going to say, but for what John had to stop himself from doing. That feeling that had been absent for so long had showed up tonight, of all places, in a dingy pub. The flutters of arousal and longing in the bottom of his stomach. All because of the one person now staring him down in a London alley.

“I had a good time too John, I’d like to do it again.” Paul’s facial expression was teasing, and he couldn’t tell if this charade was one sided, or if Paul felt the weight of their connection too. Feeling the need to exit before he said more, he walked over to the side door, opening it for both of them to go back inside, where more eyes could see them.

John gathered his guitar, and helped Paul pack up the few pieces of equipment, into a storage closet. When there didn’t seem to be much else to tie up, John began to excuse himself and head for home. As he reached down to pick up the case, Paul’s hand reached for him, wrapping his hand around John’s wrist. The look in Paul’s eyes when John’s throat closed to the touch, nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. “My flat is right upstairs, did you…um want to come up for a bit?” 

When John heard the words spill from Paul’s mouth, he nodded silently, keeping his eyes focused on the man making his heart beat in a growing crescendo. As the hand clutching his wrist tightened their hold on him, he allowed himself to be pulled away from the pub, and up the stairs leading to a start of something bold and new.


	3. Chapter 3

2:08am, the digital display was blinding as she awoke next to her small son. Not only was John not back, but Sean had woken shortly after midnight looking for his father. With no idea where he had disappeared to, she had decided to use her son as a tactic to beckon him back home. “Sean, Sean honey, wake up.” Tapping him gently, he stirred awake, rubbing his eyes in confusion as he was roused by his mother. 

“Is daddy home?” He asked, eyes still shut. “No, he isn’t, we are going to call him. Can you talk to him on the phone?” She dialed the number in her iphone, letting it ring before holding it to her son’s ear.

********************************

Lying on a Persian rug, burned joint in the ashtray between their bodies, John was euphorically content with how his night had turned out. The second act in Paul’s flat was progressing into an unfamiliar but welcome territory. While the flirting and intentional touches had been part of their night jamming. The part of the night where the next possible step could happen was quickly approaching.

Conversation had flowed so easily, the laughing and joking made John feel like he was miles away from his home life and on the cusp of a misstep. It felt so right, feeling the fingertips of Paul on his body, brushing lightly. Through their night of listening to records and getting high, it was like the old days when time stood still, and all that mattered was finding as much about the new person as possible before the sun rose. The excited ball of nerves in his belly kept him hanging on to each word that came out of Paul’s mouth. Leaving him enamored in awe at just how much his affection was growing for the man. 

When the discussion stopped, and all that was heard was the distant echo of Otis Redding, John felt the room spin as the palpable shift occurred. Looking deeply into the hazel eyes that held secrets he wanted to learn, he caught himself leaning in. The top few buttons of his flannel shirt unbuttoned, showing Paul the sharp shadow of collar bone, he licked his lips in anticipation of what he was now certain he wanted to do to John. Moving closer, the warm breath coming from John’s lips was felt on his face. He shifted closer, lifting a bit more of the shirt to catch a glimpse of bare skin peeking from the top of the dark denim trousers.

Taking his hand to gently glide over the taunt skin of pale belly, his callused fingers touched so softly, John’s eyes closed in pleasure, swimming in his mind. Threading his middle finger through the beltloop, his thumb hovered over the copper button of the Levis. Half aroused already, Paul could see the want in John’s body. It had been hours coming, the anticipation of what it would feel like to kiss the American boy he had wanted since that first meeting, just a few days prior.

Pulling the denim loop roughly, he jolted John from his soft moment of anticipation building. They smiled, keeping eye contact as they simultaneously leaned in. Whispers of saliva on their reddened lips, the soft brush of mouths hovered. Only to be stopped when the harsh ring of alarm vibrated from the pocket of John’s dungarees. 

The phone interruption was more than just a mood breaker, it shocked John back to reality. Paul pulled away, blush on his cheeks as he blew out a held breath. Taking the phone from his pocket, difficult considering his hard on he’d had for several hours by this point. He answered, a little gruff from it breaking the moment. “Hello?”

“Daddy? Where are you?” When Paul heard the tiny voice on the other end, his stomach dropped. That moment in the night resonated, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of other people in John’s life. All that night had led up to the impulse of being with John, in any way possible. His libido was betraying him, he hadn’t felt this attracted to someone so soon to meeting them, as he did with John.

“Hey honey, I’m just over at a friend’s house. I’ll be home soon, okay?” Covering his eyes with his hand, John was feeling like he was giving away too much about his personal life than what he wanted. Killing the mood, probably for the better, when he saw the way Paul’s head had turned away from the private conversation. He hung up the call with Sean, mentally kicking himself for his lack of transparency.

He reached out to touch the t-shirt clad shoulder of Paul. “I uh, I need to go.” Not being able to look him in the eye, Paul pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, no problem. Well, this was good.” Nodding his head, the moment had gotten awkward, and it seemed like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. John jumped up to gather his guitar case in hand, leaving the apartment abruptly before Paul could say more. 

Taking deep gulps of air as he entered the cool night, he had lost control and was feeling insecure about what he had almost let happened. He got into a taxi on the corner of the street, back to his reality.

Paul sat still on the carpeted floor, unsure of the complete change of the night’s events in a matter of minutes. He rubbed the tired from his eyes, letting the muscles in his face loosen to the tension of what transpired. For seeming so interested in Paul, and the idea of hooking up, he realized he knew very little about the man who had captured his interest so sudden. 

Walking over to turn off the record player, he thought about the night. How easy he had fallen into things with John, and how much he liked the man. It had been a long time since he had found someone worthwhile of his affections, and seeing now what conflicts were ahead, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared.

***************************

When John arrived home, Sean was asleep and Yoko had locked their bedroom. He stumbled into the guest room where the futon had already been made with fresh sheets and a blanket. As if planning on shutting him out after his night away from her. Typical. He undressed, settling under the cold sheets and thin blanket. Finding it hard to be discouraged of the predicament he now found himself in. Although it seemed impossible, he couldn’t get the thought of Paul and his night out of his head, and for that, he was happy.

Unsure of how Monday would go when they saw each other at the office, he tried to anticipate an answer for whatever questions were to arise, if any. Perhaps he could put this behind him, remaining friends who jammed together on the weekends. 

John lie there, watching the shadows on the ceiling, as he thought of the way Paul had touched him. The lingering whisper of whiskey and weed on his mouth before he leaned in to that first attempt at a kiss. The smell of him while John lay across from him, the hint of peppery aftershave and soap. His want for the man hadn’t waned from the cab ride to his home, and now alone in the dark room, his mind went to the place where he could have been right now if he hadn’t been interrupted.

Taking his still stiff dick into his hand, he curled his fingers, giving gentle tugs to the velvet flesh. Thinking only of how it would have felt if they could have kept going. Turning his face into the flimsy pillow, he breathed deep through his nose. Feeling more aroused than he had in years, the pull of his hand grew tighter, as he imagined the way it would feel to have Paul take him. Giving a whimper into the small room, the fleeting images of the dark-haired man climaxing into him, gave him another shiver of release. 

Grabbing his discarded shirt in order to wipe the evidence from his skin. He had needed that, and before his eyes shut into a deep rest, he couldn’t find it in his mind to feel guilty for what he had done.

*********************************

“Oi, Dickhead, open up!” The pounding of a fist on his flat door woke him, much earlier than he had wanted. Still clad in his prior night clothing, Paul shuffled to the door as he opened it to his best mate. “George, the fuck? It’s early. Christ, I thought you’d be over tomorrow?” Extremely irritated and a bit hung over, Paul made his way to the coffee pot as George entered the apartment. “Yeah, well I was in the neighborhood, figured I get my stuff now. Just dropped off an arrangement up the street.” 

Making himself at home, he plopped into the armchair in the loft. “What’s your deal? Did you go out after we finished jamming?” inquiring into his friends disheveled appearance. “Nah, nothing like that, more like I made a stupid assumption, and proceeded to finish off that bottle of whiskey to drown my mistake.” Setting the machine to brew, he sat next to his friend, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain much more.  
“Ah, I knew it. Richie owes me a fiver.” Eyes widening, as George pulled the remnants of the half smoked spliff from the ashtray. “The fuck you on about?” Paul was curious what the man meant. Sparking the smoke, he took a pull. 

“John? I mean, it’s pretty obvious. Watching you two in the pub, I’m surprised you didn’t just shag each other on stage.” Shrugging off the conversation, Paul didn’t think his flirting was that blunt. “You’re daft, that’s not going to happen.” Paul was a terrible actor, denying the obvious. “Oh, am I? Let me ask you this, did he come up here after I left?” turning his head away, he couldn’t look his friend in the eye. “See, I knew it. You are so easy to read.” Pleasantly baked, George smiled at his friend.

“Not that simple I’m afraid.” Paul snatched the last bit of roach from his friend. “He’s more complicated than I imagined.” Reminiscing, he thought back to the phone call that ended their perfect night. He would call it ‘perfect’ because no other person had made him feel the way John had. Although George was his best friend, he didn’t want to lay it out there so easily.

“You mean the wife and kid shit?” George was not beating around the bush about it. “Yeah, you know about that?” Paul disappointedly responded, holding the smoke in his lungs. “Well, we do share an office. Figured I had known more about him than you. Didn’t take you long to fall for him though.” Snapping his head to his friend, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul was defensive.

“Just saying, he’s exactly your type, arty, mysterious, musical. Even has the look about him. I’ve known you since we were twelve. As soon as he arrived, I thought, ‘Oh shit, Paul’s a goner.’” Laughing to lighten the mood, George could see the concern on Paul’s face. Trying to be the supportive friend George continued, “If it helps, I don’t think it’s a good situation. Sounds like she’s very busy with ‘er career, and he’s always takin’ care of their kid. Picks him up from school every day. That’s why he leaves early.” George was explaining the situation to the best of his knowledge.

“It doesn’t help, because that just makes it all the more complicated.” The more they talked about it, the more Paul felt intrusive to the family dynamic.

“Hey mate, just see what happens, I mean, maybe it’ll work out?” Paul couldn’t blame his friend for his positive spin on the situation, George always tried to see the bright side of things. “Yeah, guess you’re right. I mean, he did seem to be interested, it wasn’t one sided.” Being hopeful of the prospect. 

“Exactly, and you know what?” George rubbed his hands together eagerly. “What?” Paul asked excitedly. “The retreat is coming up soon. Remember when Richie booked that way back last year? It’ll be the chance you need to spend time with him, AND will be work related, so he can justify it.” 

The cogs in his brain spun, when Richie had informed him of the ‘Professional Development’ retreat he was booking for them all to regroup and re-center, he thought the idea stupid. Now though, being in the outdoors miles from the city, the prospect of getting to know his co-worker was a brilliant idea.

“George, sometimes you really just make the day brighter.” Grinning at his friend, Paul was beginning to feel better already about his outlook on the situation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little update as my present to you all xoxo!
> 
> Thanks again for the comments and suggestions, I'd love to hear where you'd like this story to go. At this point, I'm not sure how long I will continue it, but if you all keep reading, I'll keep writing!!

The time had arrived for Yoko to venture to Paris to finalize her ongoing financial proposal, leaving John and Sean behind for a two week stretch. With his wife gone for an extended trip, John immersed himself in his work. Using the days to design projects for existing clients, Richie was his biggest cheerleader, continually giving him praise and support for the work he was doing. It made him feel good to have someone compliment his ideas.

By mid-week, he had run out of ways to avoid Paul. Running into him in the kitchen of the breakroom, he couldn’t deny that he owed the man an explanation. Observing that they were the only two in the private area, John began to speak. “I owe you an apology for what transpired last weekend.” Keeping his head down while he stirred the sugar into his cup of hot tea, Paul was listening intently. “You don’t owe me anything, remember that. We both had a bit of lapse in judgement.” He shrugged, not sure he wanted to discuss it further. As he began to leave the cramped galley kitchenette, John reached out to loop the crook of his elbow. With his voice a whisper, “I do want to continue where it was heading, if you still feel the same about it.” Pleading in his eyes, Paul didn’t want to say he sounded desperate, but he caught himself leaning closer into John.

With the touch of his fingers, tightly gripped to his forearm, Paul relished the touch. He looked into John’s determined stare, no hesitation in what he was insinuating. “I do too, John. I’ve actually thought of little else since then.” A wry smile warmed his face, and once again the nest of butterflies in his gut fluttered, as he looked on into the delicate features of his co-worker.

“As you probably assumed, things with me are a bit complicated right now.” He informed Paul. “But I’d like for you to give me a chance.” Peering out to look for additional staff, Paul turned into John, allowing for his thin thigh to slightly slot between John’s thicker stance. With a hand on his waist, he leaned in to smell the peppery cologne of his neck as he was temporarily pinned between John and the worktop. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” His lips traced over the shell of John’s ear, sending a shiver down his back. Cursing the location, they were both in, John pulled back, flush filling his cheeks.

“Could you come over a night this week?” Clearing his throat to will away the tingle of arousal he was feeling from the proximity of Paul near his hips. As if been given a ticket to a carnival, the happiness that bubbled from Paul at the invitation was palpable. “Yes, I’d like that, very much.” Biting into his lower lip, John was convinced the lust in his blood for the pretty lad in front of him, might cause him to burst.

“I’ll email you my number, just text me when you have a free night, and we’ll go from there.” He remained confident, regardless of how his mind felt in the situation. “Looking forward to it then.” Paul replied with a wistful grin.

After their little encounter in the breakroom, John concentrated on little else but the idea of what would occur IF Paul would happen to show up on his doorstep. Although he appeared to concentrate on his laptop, his mind wandered to his favorite place, images of the two of them tangled in a bed, sweaty and satisfied. He needed a distraction from the inappropriate thoughts. 

Seeing as he still had an hour before picking up his son from school. John took a little extra time to stop by a Boots, to pick up a few things he had run out of around the house. Some shower gel, a facial moisturizer and a few odds and ends. He wandered aimlessly around the busy shop, and ended up in front of the family planning section. His mind subconsciously led him to this spot, now the impulse to purchase condoms and lube was right in front of him. 

Even if the possibility of Paul showing up at his home didn’t lead them to immediately falling into bed together, the memo of the mandatory work retreat could be a promising getaway. By this point, John was so ready to take advantage of his ‘freedom to roam’ he’d even be open to quickie with one of the cute copywriters. Seeing as his attraction to Paul was immediate, he could still find an outlet with a number of other people.

While he reached for the pack of condoms, he thought back to his last encounter with another man. He had always been attracted to men and women, but prior to his relationship with Yoko, he had become infatuated with a fellow artist in his painting class at NYU, Stuart.

Stuart was a beautiful guy, talented beyond a doubt and the first man he ever allowed to top him. Until then, John had always been dominant, but after the gorgeous man filled John with trust and love, he found that submitting and letting his walls come down (so to speak) was what he truly enjoyed from a lover.

In the end, Stuart broke his heart, finding a new flame with a German photographer, Klaus and then that was the end of it. Yoko was a finance major that took a drawing class with him, and after Stuart left a hole in his heart, she swooped in with her dominating personality and convenient trust fund. It wasn’t that there wasn’t ever love, there had been, but after meeting so young in life, and being together since they were twenty-one, he had grown from the person he once was.

Seeing as it had been years since he was with a man, his body was almost aching with the urge to participate in it again. For now, Paul was good looking, flirtatious and a perfect candidate for a physical affair. He liked the man’s personality as well, the fact that he was also a talented musician with other amazing attributes, was probably going to make this difficult to keep casual.

He made his way to the cashier, paid for his supplies, and continued to walk to Sean’s school. 

That night, he cooked stir fry and rice. They played a board game, and folded laundry together, followed by a bath and a book. Like clockwork, Sean was asleep deeply by 8:15 and John proceeded to call his wife just for the sake of obligation. No answer, as expected, followed by a text:

Yoko: ‘Can’t talk tonight, business dinner xo’

Thinking of sending back a response, another message popped up before he could.

+44-7911-618-1942: ‘I’m in the area, can I come by for a drink?’

Paul? Surely, he wasn’t as eager as John had been? Sending a message back, he had no hesitations.

John: ’49 Ennismore Garden Mews. Can’t wait!’

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, seeing as he only had a few minutes to clean up. He opted for a temperate shower to still the pulse of arousal coursing through him anytime Paul crossed his mind. Now, with the impending visit, he quickly tugged off in the shower, cumming in record time, this would allow him better stamina should something escalate with them.

He combed his hair, still damp and curling from the water. Dressed in black joggers and a fitted gray t-shirt, he looked casual, yet fuckable. Again, if that’s the way things would progress. He made his way to the kitchen, and popped open a bottle of beer from the fridge. Deeply gulping the dark liquid, his nerves were shaking, and then there was a tap at the front door.

Opening the heavy white door, He was met with the red coated back and wavy raven hair of Paul, spinning on the heels of those two-tone wingtips that drove him wild with want. He smiled at him, “Nice digs Johnny, how much is Richie paying you?” teasing him, he brushed past him and made his way comfortably into the foyer.

He closed the door, admiring the bright clothing he had become familiar with as Paul’s style. The gold corduroy trousers were slim fitting with a flare at the ankles, making his legs appear longer, if that was possible. The sinful thought of those legs tangled in his own made him shiver in want. “Not nearly enough to afford this place, let’s just call me a ‘kept’ man.” Looking seductively at Paul, the eye contact was not lost on the man in front of him. Taking off his jacket, he began to walk further into the townhouse, letting it drop from his fingers into a pool of satin lining in the middle of the floor.

Moving his fingers to unbutton the top two buttons of his floral-patterned dress shirt, he reached out for the bottle of beer hanging in John’s left hand. Nearly pressed into the tightly t-shirted chest of John, they were almost the exact same height. Peering directly into the glasses covered face of the homeowner, he took a languidly slow drink from the neck of the bottle. John bit his lip, and even though he had just come from the thought of the man, now standing in his house, his dick twitched in excitement, as he watched the plush lips envelop around the bottle.

Feeling bold, and frankly tired of the coy flirting the gorgeous bastard had a masterful talent for, John placed both hands firmly on Paul’s hips. He lowered his hand holding the bottle of beer, setting it on the marble floor as they moved further into the hall. Pulling John closer by the back of his neck, fingers threading in the maple tufts at the nape. They read each other, neither able to hold off any longer as their mouths crashed together, roughly. The tantalizing feel of a cool mouth on his own, nibbling on his bottom lip drove John wild. He pulled Paul closer, the arousal evident through the stiff fabric of his pants. God, if the kiss alone from Paul’s mouth was doing this much to him, he was pretty sure he might melt if he got to have sex with the man.

With small breaks to catch their breath, they moved further into the house. Bumping into walls and doorframes, as they continued to devour and grope with unwarranted urgency. They had all night, so why was he drowning in the moment? The rough stubble of their upper lips, rubbed deliciously together. John’s hand moved lower, cupping the perfectly round ass, emitting a groan of approval. “Fuck, John. I want you.” Paul’s hands pulled the glasses from his face, as he set them on a nearby end table. He then proceeded to slowly remove the gray t-shirt, admiring the hairless, taunt chest of man in front of him.

Callused fingers traced over his abs, up over the hard nipples, causing John to hiss when the edge of his thumbnail sharply brushed over. When fingers snaked up to his neck, tilting his chin back, John closed his eyes with the light squeeze of dominance caused his throat to clench. Using his left hand to keep John in place, he nipped at the sharp collarbone. Squeezing the firm ass of Paul, he let out a puff of appreciation, dampening his skin with heat. “Want you, Paul. I’ve been going fucking crazy thinking about this.” John’s words gravelly on his tongue, encouraged Paul to do more.

Moving delicate fingers lower, he teased the waistband of the joggers down. Feeling the elastic band of boxer briefs, his fingers traced over the thickness growing just under his digits. When the sensation caused a whimper, Paul decided he needed more of that sinful sound. 

Pulling off the dampening skin, Paul pushed John up against the hallway wall, turning to see the traffic passing outside the window, John watched as the idea that anyone walking past could see what was happening to him, made him even harder than he thought he could be. As Paul dropped to his knees, he licked over the damp cotton stretched over the thick cock in front of him. John traced fingers through the soft locks of Paul’s head, watching every move as he sucked and teased his prick with perfected anticipation.

When his lips finally engulfed the swollen dick, the incoherent babble of appreciation caused Paul to suck harder and hum in agreement. John’s dick was beautiful, thick and uncircumcised. Delicious and perfectly weighted on his tongue, Paul was enjoying the task, peering up through his dark fanned lashes, John gripped tighter onto the beauty.

Climbing into his orgasm, Paul sucked with skill, kneading his muscular thighs, building him up. When the tightening at the base of his tailbone indicated he was close, he moaned, thrusting his pelvis to warn the man. Seeming to encourage him on, Paul opened wider, the tip of him hitting the back of his throat. He hummed through a gag, and that was all he needed. Spilling forcefully into the wet heat, his prick was sucked dry. The dazed of euphoria so heady, his knees began to buckle, only to be held up while Paul licked him clean. He had just experienced the best blow job of his existence, and the gorgeous bastard just smiled and kissed his way up John’s sweat slicked body.

Giving the man a moment to recover, John pulled him up against his spent body, kissing the bitterness from his lips. While he tongued the mouth of Paul, his hands moved over his clothed body, ready to reciprocate the oral gift. Only to be pushed away, somewhat teasingly. “No baby.” Paul kissed the underside of John’s jaw while he whispered. “I asked you for a drink, next time, it’s up to you what you want.” Nipping the plush lobe of his ear, John groaned out, a twitch of arousal almost starting up again. “Christ, you are going to be the death of me, fucking tease, you are….” Cupping his perfectly spent package through the replaced underwear and joggers, Paul kissed him once more.

Pulling away, he readjusted his cloth covered dick, and gathered his suit jacket from the floor of the entryway. Still unable to move from the ball shattering orgasm, John watched as Paul waved goodnight, as he proceeded to the front door. Giving a shit eating grin, and a charming as fuck wink, “Thanks for the drink, see you tomorrow, John.”

As the door shut loudly into the quiet house, John just wiped his face of the shock from the interaction that had just transpired. He was utterly infatuated, and now knew what exactly this affair would entail. A game between the two of them, perhaps that’s how it would stay casual. Except after that little performance of Paul’s, John would have to get creative before their next encounter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little update for all of you waiting for it!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading and for your comments and kind words xoxoxox

He was losing it, his grip on his confidence was waning. For Paul, that was unheard of. 

Thinking he had done the right thing, surprising John at his home with a quick, but ball shattering blow job. In hindsight, perhaps he’d made a mistake with the sudden action. John had appeared to enjoy it. However, keeping the game going, might not have been what he was looking for.

Most of his life he charmed anyone and everyone. Never being turned down for a job, a date, a shag or anything really. He had a powerful ability to get all he wanted in life. After another few days without so much as an email or text from John, he was doubting his abilities.

He’d nothing else planned on that Sunday night when the event postcard arrived in his work letterbox earlier in the week. So why not invite George along to enjoy some culture and free hors d’oeuvres at the exhibit opening at his ex-boyfriend, Robert’s gallery?

Paul had cheated on him with a landscape photographer from Arizona, named Linda. It didn’t last, and Robert was more than tired of Paul’s ‘free spirit’ therefore, he hadn’t wanted to rekindle anything. 

They had seen each other at mutual friend’s functions and remained courteous. Paul knew that he had left many things unsaid between them. Robert was his mentor, a great talent of a man who introduced Paul to the artistic community in London. He was forever grateful, for his affair with Robert, and admired him, but long term it would never have lasted. 

Drinking way too much cheap Chardonnay than planned, he got extra touchy with Robert, an obvious mistake that he couldn’t stop from making. He looked rough, older, and Paul felt obligated to compliment his gallery show. He was flirty and desperate, and his wingman was keeping an eye on him, from a respectable distance. 

George was slightly buzzed, and was soon going to be tasked with keeping Paul in line. A thing that didn’t happen often, if he was being honest with himself, he had noticed a change in Paul since the interactions with John. Something self-destructive, and although George didn’t interfere in Paul’s relationships, he had been aware of how ugly the break up with Robert was. Before refilling his wine glass, he scanned across the small gallery, not finding Paul anywhere, or Robert for that matter. Fuck.

Insecure, and pining, he had done something extremely stupid. Paul had let Robert lead him off to the storage closet in the back office, and fuck his brains out. Sloppy and anticlimactic for Paul, he had instantly regretted his decision. When Robert attempted to lean in and kiss Paul deeper, he pulled away. Getting dressed in a hurry, he pushed his way out of the back room. Out from Robert’s dazed and desperate grasps, out the back door to the alley. 

He lit a cigarette, and pulled deeply, letting the nicotine crackle in his chest. His ass burned, the fact that he had just bailed on George for a lackluster ‘quickie’ wasn’t helping the pain subside.

The fact remained, even after the attempt to move on. He ached for John. His carefree attitude towards hooking up and enjoying the feel of orgasming without the ties of monotony to keep him down, were not enjoyable. Never before had he been so hung up on a person, and it scared the shit out of him.

With a busted business deal, and a bout of stomach flu, Yoko was on a warpath. Keeping John and Sean walking on eggshells, he had been avoiding her more than usual, if that was possible.

His thoughts about Paul, and what had transpired in his very own entryway, kept him sane. He needed to make a move, show Paul exactly how he was feeling about him. His avoidance was mostly from the hell he’d been dealing with at home. When Yoko was in a mood, it seeped through everyone. Even Sean was struggling. 

A very happy-go-lucky child most of the time, he was having a hard time expressing his emotions, including an outburst at school. John had to leave early one day and handle the meltdown with the headmaster, who assured John it was okay and most likely a reaction to “all the new changes” he’d been experiencing. Although Yoko was present at the orientation, she hadn’t presented herself at school since. A subtle fact that the Headmaster eluded to. John reassured her that they would spend more quality family time together, to help Sean adjust.

After another tension packed day, full of rain and too many episodes of a cartoon about a wild Cimarron horse on Netflix, John needed an outlet. Did he dare message Paul? It was Sunday, and he would try tomorrow to speak to him. Express the weight of his home life, as a form of excuse for his absent nature. If it was his turn to make a move in the little game they were playing, he was distractedly lacking. Being dominant and straightforward in his intentions was something he had struggled with in recent years. A painful marriage can destroy self-confidence, he was living proof.

As he gathered his jacket and umbrella from the foyer, he yelled up to Yoko. “I’m running to the market, and to get a few supplies for my work retreat!” She was prancing down the steps, in rapid time. “You need supplies for what?” she kept walking into the dining room, where the white table and chairs had piles of white paper and white folders stacked on them. How could she tell things apart? 

“My company retreat? I told you about this when I started, it’s mandatory. This Friday thru Sunday. We are staying at this new age healing place with yoga, and meditation and all that kind of bullshit.” He sounded irritated with the whole thing, when secretly, he was dying for the break. 

Still stacking and sorting through business papers, she turned around to acknowledge his presence getting ready to leave. “Where’s Sean?” she asked, curtly. “He’s watching T.V. I’ll pick up dinner, alright?” As he pulled on his dark green rubber rain boots, leaving her behind as he walked into the warm rain.

On Monday, he arrived to a meeting invitation from Paul and Rich regarding a client he had done some media work on. The conference call was at ten, it gave him a bit of time to get grounded before he was forced into contact with Paul.

About thirty minutes prior to the meeting in Paul’s office, Rich came in a bit out of breath. “Ey, John, I need you to fill in for me at the ten o’clock call.” He handed a folder of talking points to him for review. “I double booked, and my other appointment is coming here, so you and Paul will have to cover.” Seeming a bit flustered, he scrolled through his phone, half aware of George and Pete listening to his plea to John.

John was fairly certain he could handle the customer. He’d spent a full week going over their company background, and was certain the campaign he had developed for their Etsy account and Twitter profile would be well received. 

With three strong cups of black coffee in his veins, and his magnificently tailored charcoal suit on, he was brimming with cockiness. Not to mention, he was going to use this thrumming vibe for his first encounter with Paul after several days apart. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his face as he strode into his office. Big dick energy if you please.

About eight minutes till the call, John knocked on the closed door. “Enter!” in that sing song tone he used around the office. When John opened the heavy door, he was met with the taunt backside stretched in navy blue pinstripe pants, so tight they appeared painted on. Bent over his computer desk, typing frantically at the keys. Some background music that resembled an old brass band played over speakers. John looked around at the organized chaos that seemed to fit the environment of ‘Paul.’ 

“Rich can’t be on the call, had another meeting, but we should be fine.” Taking a seat in a nearby swivel chair, he sat, waiting for Paul to observe his presence. Now he was the one avoiding.

When Paul turned to him, there was a certain strain on his face. One of a man deprived of rest, and perhaps stressed. Only knowing him a few short weeks, this was new. Although he portrayed a person with his shit together, if John was an assuming man, there was definitely something on Paul’s mind.

“Right, that’s good. I’m sure this will be a quick call, we are only in the first phase of the project anyway.” Still working on his computer, Paul still hadn’t made eye contact with John. While John waited, sitting calm in the chair, he contemplated a terribly filthy idea.

The office was in a corner, surrounded by windows overlooking the neighborhood. Although not high up, they were several stories above the ground, with no chance of being seen. Biting his lip as he sat rocking lightly in the office chair, John figured now was as good as ever to make the next move.

When the call began, there were the usual introductions over speaker phone, while Paul guided the client to the link to open the presentation materials. John decided to stand as well, leisurely walking around the small space, waiting for his turn to speak about the project. With straight arms leaned onto the worktop, Paul spoke casually, listening to concerns from the customer.

In his stroll through the space, he quietly locked the door. By the time he walked back to the corner of the computer desk and conference call, it was his turn to speak. Paul watched him, now finally giving him a moment’s attention. Although he wasn’t certain, the slight hitch of his breath when he gave John and honest look over, was enough to let John know his professional appearance was pleasing to the eye.

Back to letting Paul speak, John moved in closer. As Paul leaned over the desk to expand a desktop icon, John took his chance and ran with it. Hand pressing over the lower back, right above the pert curve of that delicious ass. He began to smooth his firm touch lower, beginning to cup over the flesh. All the while watching for a reaction, but none came. Paul remained calm and collected as he kept on talking. Which only made John want to push it further.

Nearing him, John kept his hand in place, squeezing harder while simultaneously moving to be directly behind Paul as he dipped only that much lower, making the shift just that much easier. Reading what must have been the first impulse of lust, Paul looked over his shoulder to watch John cup and grasp the ripe cheeks of his now popped an interested, bottom. Continuing the ministrations, ever the professional, Paul kept on talking through the call. Now spreading his legs a bit wider for John to allow his thick thighs to fill in between.

The thrums of arousal were beginning to press against the zipper of John’s trousers. Making it difficult to remain in control of the slow build, he wanted this to last. Wanted to have the ever confident ‘Macca’ whimpering with desire, keeping him on the edge. With another greedy squeeze, a variance in his breath was the only evidence that this was getting to him. Bending down lower, Paul was encouraging him. Keeping one heated palm on the dip of his spine, pulling one hand away to adjust his growing cock.

When the touch waned, Paul peered back again to see where the contact went. Locking eyes with John as he palmed over his crotch, teasingly slow. Licking his lips, Paul adjusted his hips focusing back on the conference call. The conversation was nearing an end, the calm presence of John still hovering behind him. Hand hard on his hip, John pressed into the soft backside of Paul, making his arousal known.

A shuttered breath expelled from his lungs, nearly giving away the naughty interaction on the other side of the call. Dropping his head between his slumping shoulders, John rutted again. The long fingers of Paul’s splayed hands, curling slowly into fists across the desktop. Yes, this is exactly the reaction he had wanted from the man, he was building the tension.

With a few more seconds of banter, the call ended with positive comments and thanks of attentive work. John really should have tried to pay better attention, he admired Paul for keeping it together for the most part. When the speaker announced the now dead phone line, John wasted no time spinning Paul around to face him.

Breathing ragged and lust glazing over his hazel eyes, John attacked the plush mouth red with anticipation. Groaning hard, hips thrusting into each other he was tonguing deeply. Hot breath nipping at the corner of Paul’s mouth, he brushed his open mouth across the slight stubble of Paul’s cheek making a slow path to lick the plump lobe of his ear. Tilting his head back, elongating the ivory expanse of his throat, he was keening into the wet touches teasing him. Biting into the thin skin, John clutched his neck, gruffly whispering, “I want your cock.”

Demanding and final, Paul whined, “Have me. Ugh… take me.” Meeting of hungry mouths devoured, with tugs and pulls at starched shirts, it was urgent now. Spreading his legs again, Paul gripped the edge of the desk. Leaning up his pelvis as John took his time unbuttoning his way lower. Stopping as he pleased to flick over hard nipples, flat tongue pressing into the small thatch of hair on his sternum. Moaning pleased sounds as the wet trail explored and tasted.

Meeting the belt buckle of his trousers, John teased, licking softly around the sensitive naval. Driving Paul wild, he clutched the hair of the man’s head pleading words of want while he kept him wavering on the edge. Unzipping the tight pants, John scraped his teeth over the clothed bulge, pressing intensely into the fabric. Cupping his own cock, which was now painfully hard, Paul let out a hiss of approval when he watched John touch himself. “You ready, baby?” Paul nodded, with one hand pressing John closer to his throbbing dick and his other hand lightly rolling his nipple, Paul was so turned on he might just come in his trousers.

In the dropping of the pants, the next beat John’s mouth was on him. No light touches, just the wet heat of his throat opening to take it all. The image caused him to audibly moan and legs to buckle. Catching the surprised, moaning man. John cupped under his thighs, bringing a knee over his shoulder enough to take his prick further. Allowing deep pulls to the pulsing prick wrecking his mouth. “Jesus- Fuck! John….” It was an unraveling cry, clutching the furry thigh pressed to his head, John hummed greedily swallowing him deeper.

“Ohhhhh, God….John, please…I’m….ugh!” Breathless mumbles with eyes tightly closed, concentrating. Knowing what would be just that last bit to have him in a puddle, literally and figuratively. John stopped the self-gratifying gropes to softly caress the near bursting balls of the writhing gorgeous bastard. Keeping his focus on the very important task, he tugged rougher. Eyes darting open with a muffled scream, their gazes locked. 

John pulled back, nearly completely off after smothering Paul’s dick since first contact. Taking the tip gently between his slick, red lips, Paul watched intently. Sweat on his brow, and the slight tremble of his thighs let John know he was close, teetering with want to release. Lightly licking the underside, his teasing was becoming frustrating. “Look at me Paul.” With the demand, Paul took deep breaths, bracing for what was next. With another deep suck, John withdrew, speaking around the slick head of Paul’s painfully hard cock. “The next time we do this…..” he kissed hot and open mouth over the head, light scraping of his teeth catching the foreskin, “You WILL fuck me….Got it?” And with that, he engulfed him fully.

Moaning louder than he should have, the sensation exploded though every fiber in his body. Wracking chills over his too sensitive skin, he came in endless spurts into the wet heat of John’s perfect mouth. His heart beating, his breath panting clutching at any part of John he could grab. 

Clumsy fingers pulled on his silk tie, tugging John up his spent body. From his knees and into his languidly slack arms. Yanking the tie, it pulled the smug grin from his cock sucking lips. Paul cupped his flushed face, bringing his lips to his panting mouth. Tasting on his tongue his own cum on John’s breath, he couldn’t get enough.

To Paul, the shattering blow job was more than reciprocation, it was surrender. Frantic kisses engulfing the two, Paul was euphoric with lust for this incredible man. A few more pecks, and they separated, smiling and giving soft chuckles to the act that had transpired in a very public office.

They dressed, casually as if nothing had occurred other than a business meeting. As John packed up his materials from the meeting, he noticed Paul observing him while he sat sprawled leisurely at his ergonomic desk chair. He walked over, dipping his head down to begin with small talk. Paul reach out, and pulled the necktie in closer before leaning up to kiss John. A kiss that felt different than the one before, more intimate, feeling like lovers. Making out tenderly, John couldn’t help notice the way they fit together, familiarity with each other like the night after jamming together.

“Will you be at the retreat?” Paul asked softly as he pulled away, another peck on John’s kiss bitten lips. Smiling at the rosy faced man, John replied, “If it means spending more time with you, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Worried he might have sounded a bit too eager for this to develop, the grin on Paul was plenty of reassurance he was okay.

“Bring your guitar, Luv. We can make music together.” Paul leaned in for one more kiss, almost ready for another round with the handsome colleague. “I plan on doing that and more.” John placed one more kiss to him, knowing he had to head back to his desk. Christ, this was madness, he was smitten. Paul turned to an incoming call from the front desk, it seemed he had another meeting. “I’ll see ya, yeah?” Nodding, John made his way out of the office.

He met Richie in the hall, “Hey! Johnny, how did it go? Did the client say anything about me not being on the call?” To John, the conference call seemed miles away from where his mind was. “Nah, we’re good! Paul covered it perfectly, they seem happy with how it’s going.” He grinned, hoping the flush of his face wouldn’t arouse suspicion. “Well, thanks for covering, you saved me hide!” Richie patted him on his back, and kept on down the hall to Paul’s office.

When he arrived back to his desk, George gave him a look. “Geez, that meeting must have been rough, you look like they put you through the ringer!” Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, John cleared his throat. “Oh, nah it was fine, just really hot in Paul’s office, all those windows, ya’ know?” Turning to check on the missed emails he had waiting for him in his inbox. “Yeah, all those window….that’s what it was….” George chuckled to himself.

John put in his earbuds, pretending to ignore the comment George had made. He thought about what was happening, how the feelings in his head were beginning to overflow into visible happiness. It was just a fling, a perfectly acceptable outlet for his urges and wants. Nothing more than some fun between two adults, so why was his heart beating so fast?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!
> 
> I'm back with an update to this long lost fic. This next chapter will be the first part of the retreat, there is a LOT more to come. Thanks for reading and for sticking with me on this one that has been on hiatus for a while.
> 
> Enjoy xo

“You see Sean, Daddy will be gone the next few days. Mommy will be picking you up today from school.” John walked hand in hand with the bright five-year-old as he dropped him off at primary school on that cloudy morning.

“Will you call to say goodnight?” the small boy looked up to his father.

“Not for the next few days, I can’t have a telephone where I’m going, BUT I promise to spend double time with the tuck in when I’m home on Sunday. Do we have a deal?” John squatted low to be eye to eye with his son.

With a mischievous smirk, Sean nodded in agreement with his father’s promise.

“Okay Daddy, deal!” He jumped into John’s arms where he was met with a tight hug and kiss to his black tresses.

The school bell rang, as Sean pulled away and began to run to his group of friends in the courtyard.

“Bye Bye Daddy, have fun on your field trip!!” he waved enthusiastically.

“Bye Sean! I love you!” 

John watched as his son shuffled into line at the front of the school. He was going to miss the little lad, but he was confident his time apart would be good for all of them. 

Yoko was already at the office when he got up that morning, so he left a note before he was off for his weekend retreat:

_“Mother, No tech at the retreat center. Emergency number is on the back._

_I will be home late Sunday. Love to you both._ _\- John”_

Like a freed man, he walked at a quickened pace to the waiting charter bus taking him and others away for a weekend of meditation and clarity.

***

They were a small bunch, sixteen to be exact, as they crowded onto the high-class bus waiting for them. John had stood back from a distance to not seem overly eager about the prospect of having alone time with Paul all weekend. He packed a hiking style backpack, and his acoustic. The latter caught the eyes of the 3 friends he had jammed with, they excitedly approved and showed off their own guitars they had essentially packed.

Since their bold encounter at the office earlier in the week, he and Paul had exchanged series of flirtatious text messages. Of course, they still had to keep things professional on the outside for all their colleagues to remain oblivious to the intense attraction firing between the two of them. Besides George’s comments, John felt as though their secret was safe.

“Alright you lot. We have about a 90 minute drive to the resort, so please relax and enjoy. Once we arrive, you will be assigned your own private dormitory style room. After checking in and a chance to freshen up, there will be a yoga session, followed by meditation and a group dinner.” Richie spoke loudly from the front of the bus, as John settled in next to Pete, already zoned out.

“Don’t forget, this weekend is unplugged and tech free. Please turn off your mobiles and drop them into the basket up front. You will get them back on the return trip Sunday.”

Paul and George sat together, in front of him. Paul turned around, knees in his seat to acknowledge John with the faintest blush to his cheek.

“Heyo Mister Lennon! Ready for this? Exactly like the first day of Summer Camp. Right Georgie?” With that George sat up and nodded in agreement.

“Aye, though I’m sure this place is a bit posher than Butlins.”

“What’s ‘Butlins’?” John asked with a look of confusion.

“It was a scouts camp in Wales all us Liverpool lads went to each summer. Canoeing, archery, fires, all that great shite young boys love to do.” Paul reminisced with George. “Surely they have summer camps in America?” his doe eyes were fondly looking at John.

“We do, but I’d never gone. Summer camps were for kids that didn’t live out on a farm, like me. Where I grew up, we were detassleling corn in the hundred-degree heat. It paid well, but it wasn’t nearly as fun as what city kids got to experience over summer.” John had caught them by surprise.

“Wait, Johnny? You were a farm boy?” Paul’s eyes studied him, slightly impressed by the news.

“Part of my life I was raised in the Midwest, Nebraska actually, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.” John brushed off the confession as if it wasn’t worth their time to hear about John’s tragic backstory.

George had turned back to the front as the vehicle started to move along the packed city streets, but Paul still smiled at John.

“What?” John asked with a lilting chuckle.

“Nothing, you just surprised me is all.” The color on his cheeks darkened as he sucked in his bottom lip to study him longer. Good thing Pete’s earbuds were in and his eyes were closed as he snored into the window, so he wasn’t witness to the blatant flirting between his coworkers.

“I’m full of surprises, Macca. Stick around and maybe I’ll surprise you more.” John’s gaze was unwavering, as Paul let out a sigh, smiled and proceeded to take a proper seat facing the front of the bus.

***

The retreat center was lovely. Situated around Woburn Forest, the private building and surrounding spaces were peaceful and quiet. As the women took to their building, the men spread out to their own building on the campus. Both connected to a large community center with an outdoor fire circle and trees for acres as far as you could see. 

John realized as he opened the window while scanning the simple and small space of his room, that it had been far too long since he had been immersed in nature. Central Park didn’t count. Not compared to a place like this.

As he unpacked and splashed water onto his face, a light rap at his door broke through the quiet sound of the breeze through the trees. A tightening in his stomach informed him of what he had expected. Paul was at his door.

“Room alright for you? Just checking in on everyone before we head down to yoga.” The cheeky bastard was dressed in Ombre purple and teal spandex pants. Elongating his perfectly structured body, he finished the ensemble with a tight black long-sleeved t-shirt that had John’s heart beating in his throat. 

Paul sashayed into the room, with his hands clasped behind his back. Shutting the door, he flipped the deadbolt. Paul turned instantly to John before he closed the gap and kissed him with no hesitation. Paul’s arms wrapped around John’s waist to pull him closer. This was new, this was exciting. Their kiss was that of lovers comfortable with their situation, no hesitation between them. If John had been hoping for this level of intimacy with them, it rang true that Paul had been feeling the same way.

The kisses became heated and quite effortlessly they made their way to the single bed against the wall. 

John’s legs opened to the weight of the man on top of him, aligning their arousals they moaned in harmony. “Do we have time for this?” John’s kiss bitten lips panted as Paul kissed down the column of his throat, nipping at his collarbone.

“I can be quick, but make it good for you.” Paul murmured as he continued to suck and lick lower, removing articles of clothing in his path. “Besides.” Paul’s mouth was back on John’s teasing with his tongue. He pulled away to look down at the panting man below him.

“We’ll have plenty of time for a slow session later. I need you now, Johnny.” 

With that, John gave in to the tempting offer. John reached for his bag as the lingering sounds of outside melted into the room. The serenity was setting the mood for a perfect afternoon shag.

Handing the goods to Paul, he wasted no time getting undressed. His skin was aching for contact, as Paul sat on his knees to tend to him. This moment with Paul felt different than their games before, no hurried touches to impress the other with arousing tactics that would shock the other. No, this time it was soft and real. Daylight and pine scented breezes held them still, for a moment in time.

Paul was a caring lover, his hands roaming tenderly as if John was a fragile object he would be burned by if touched. When he wrapped his thighs around Paul’s waist, the sensitivity of being filled was not overwhelming with nerves or pain. Instead, the moment had familiarity, like they had been doing the act together for years.

Shifting into the slow but deep sensation that filled his insides, John’s hand’s roamed over the perfect backside. Cupping and grasping his delicious ass in appreciation that had them both humming in approval. A light hitch in Paul’s breathing had him craning his mouth for more.

“You feel so good.” John muttered in a hush, his long fingers threading through the silky strands of Paul’s thick hair. He kissed his ear, nipping at the plump lobe. “I’ve needed this. Needed you.” His confession had him nearing the edge, as Paul pulled back slightly to kiss his mouth passionately.

“Oh John, I’ve wanted this too.” His hazel eyes looked directly into his soul, before the brush of fingers traced over John’s leaking cock pressing between them. His back arched, moving them closer as their arms and legs tangled together. With the shiver of release, Paul and John had a simultaneous orgasm. Something neither of them had experienced before.

The sounds of nature melding in the room with their sighs of contentedness, it was obvious what was happening between the two of them. Curling onto the damp chest of Paul, John breathed easily, for the first time in ages it seemed.

He felt the tickle of fingers tracing over his bicep. Paul kissed and took deep breaths into John’s auburn curls, wild from sweaty passion. “That was an alright start to the weekend, wouldn’t you say?” a smile could be heard in his voice. John leaned up on his elbow to kiss the underside of his jaw, “Mmhm, sure was.” Hands roving over the pale hipbone of the beautiful man below him.

“We even have twelve minutes to spare.” Paul smiled as he entwined his fingers with the ones caressing over his pelvis.

“How am I supposed to focus on yoga poses when I’ll be mesmerized by your ass in those tight pants?” John confessed as he kissed the knuckles of Paul’s hand.

“Just remember we’re coworkers, and this is a business-related trip.” Paul tried to play it serious, “I’ll be professional, as will you, and no one will be wise to how we ‘warmed up’ before downward dog.”

John laughed heartily, and kissed the corner of Paul’s mouth, “How about some of our own ‘downward dog’ later tonight?”

“Don’t tease me John, I could be ready to go again if you keep this up.” Paul let his neck be kissed, as John trailed lower, flicking his tongue over a pink and perky nipple. Indeed, his limp cock twitched with ideas, as John settled on top of him, peppering his pecs and sternum with open mouth kisses. John’s strong hands gripped his thighs as Paul let out a whine.

“We really will be late if this continues.” John mumbled over the soft hairs of his belly, a single stripe of his tongue flattened over the latex flavor that lingered on Paul’s half hard prick, already vying for more.

Paul threaded his fingers through John’s hair, as he teased the man further.

“Later luv, we have all weekend.” Paul swallowed hard, his voice sounding wrecked as he struggled for strength to not just open his legs and let John fuck him to the hilt. John observed his self-control and therefore pulled away, stopping any further administrations. It was good to know that Paul was versatile and they could explore each other in many ways in the days ahead.

For now, John sprang out of the single bed towards the small bathroom. They took turns in the space getting ready and cleaning up a bit after their ‘romp.’ By the time they left separately, they still had four minutes to spare.

***

Yoga turned out to be the best post sex activity John could have participated in. Although he felt sore from the stretch after years of no intimacy with a male partner, he felt euphorically good. He stole glances at Paul from the opposite side of the room, still gorgeous and flexible in those pants. He smiled to himself at the ache in his body, a pleasant reminder of what had happened between them only minutes before. They had a secret now between them and the butterflies in his belly made him tighten his core to commit to each yoga pose with precision. 

As he settled into savasana, he cleared his mind of all the worries he left behind in London. All that mattered in the hours ahead were the new moments with Paul.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time at the retreat is a big turning point, and will be continued in chapter 8 as well. 
> 
> Enjoy some more McLennon loving before things get too dramatic!

The day goes slowly in and out of classes on group dynamics and team building ideas, but John doesn’t mind. As each activity progresses, he and Paul have tiny moments of interaction. Sometimes it’s a smile, with warmth creeping down his neck to his shoulders. Another time it’s Paul’s hand brushing across his knuckles as he hands over a healing rose quartz. A little more time spent between the hand off compared to the other coworkers, but that doesn’t matter because John is completely infatuated with Paul. Everything else around him is a façade how they are using this time to explore feelings further. He honestly can’t remember the last time he felt this way about anyone, or anything for that matter. As if his whole life was waiting to plop him into London and into Paul’s world.

While he’s meditating, the sound of a babbling brook outside the studio, gives him time to clear his mind. Perhaps he’s making too much of this? The ideas in his head make him feel like a lovesick teenager. His heart his rabbiting in his ribcage as he opens his eyes to connect with Paul. He’s sitting cross legged, lashes fanned against his upper cheek deep in concentration, he’s breathtakingly handsome and John is completely smitten.

***

_Yoko: Paris was fun, how about a replay tonight?_

_Elliot: What time?_

_Yoko: after 9, you still have my address, I’ll see you on the camera, let yourself in._

_Elliot: Can’t wait._

Sean was eating his spaghetti, playing a matching game on his ipad as she smugly poured herself another glass of wine. At least with John out of the house, she wouldn’t have to sneak around with her young analyst. 

She looked through emails on her phone before opening the ‘Ring’ app to look at the history of their security camera situated on the front veranda.

Mindlessly she scrolled through screen shots of delivery drivers and John and Sean coming and going. That is until something caught her eye. Hang on, who was this? The timestamp showed it had been a night while she was away in France. 

The attractive stranger lingered on her doorstep with a giddy look on his face. The man combed fingers through his overgrown black locks, angling his chin towards the fisheye lens and waited. Until a moment later when John opened the door greeting the man like he was a welcomed guest. As he strutted confidently into the foyer of their home, he had already begun to remove his velvet jacket.

Yoko watched and waited. Only the light of passing cars up and down the street remained captured on the film. Sean continued to laugh and eat while she took another hearty gulp of her cabernet before scanning the film forward.

Exactly seventeen minutes and forty-seven seconds later the man emerges. His hair mussed and shirt buttons undone to expose chiseled collarbones. Spinning on his heels, he bouncily makes his way down the steps. He stops midway down to pull a cigarette from his pocket, lighting with a match and continued to walk south down the dark sidewalk.

Her mind reeled with speculation. Why had John let this person into their home? Perhaps this man had been a new friend? One that John had jammed with the night he came home at three in the morning. Whoever he was, she was not pleased with a stranger coming to her home to see John while she was away.

Something in her gut told her that the ‘quick’ visit might have been more than a friendly drop in.

For years, John had been given the freedom to roam. He never had as far as she could tell, but this new friend, had the appearance of someone who John would be fascinated with. She knew her husband well and one of the things John’s couldn’t resist was an attractive man who creatively inspired him. The mess she picked up after Stuart had broken his heart was a year of on and off flings to get him over the pain of that loss.

John was a fragile soul, needing love and someone to take care of him. She was the one that provided that to him, she was his anchor. Not some doe eyed musician that wanted a quick fling with her lonely husband.

As she got Sean off to bath and bed, her mind continued to replay the pretty man on her porch and his satisfied air as he left the premise. In her mind she tried to reassure herself it was nothing, but her stomach churned with jealousy. Something had changed in John since the start of his new job and her suspicion of what that was had just appeared to her on her security camera.

***

The crackle of the fire pit warmed his soul as he and George strummed their guitars. Dinner had been a few hours ago and the group had broken up across the grounds to drink some wine and converse. When George had suggested a jam, the four of them had gotten their instruments and played some blues as the night sky faded to dark. 

Richie and Paul had slipped off to take a steam in the sauna, so now all that was left were George and him. George was picking out a Muddy Waters tune, when he stopped his concentration to look over at John across the flames of the fire.

“I’ve been mates with those two for a long time, ya’know.”

“Yeah, Rich told me about you all, being from Liverpool.” John strummed mindlessly.

“What I’m saying is, Paul is me best mate. I’d do anything for ‘im. He’d do the same for me.” George stopped his playing to speak clearer. John swallowed hard as a slight chill shivered down his back.

“I only want happiness for Paul, he deserves it.” George looked up from the ground to connect with his line of vision. John stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt.

“An’ don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m on about, I know how he looks at you, what he’s told me. You both ‘ave been ‘eye fuckin’ each other since the first time we played at the pub that night.” George played a little riff from his fingers before John let out a chuckle, the comment catching him off guard. It seemed that George was not oblivious to whatever it was that was going on.

“You’re a smart lad to catch on to that.” John said smiling as he played along.

“He knows about your situation.” Georges words a bit firmer now. “I don’t want him getting caught up in something bad, ya’ know? Look, it’s not my place to pry about your home life, but jus’ be careful. That’s all I’m gonna say.” With his finality, he jumped into a solo while John continued to strum along softly.

“Thanks George, I uh, appreciate your candor.” John said.

“Sure thing. Think I’m goin’ to call it a night. Shall we?” As they walked back towards the dormitory, the laughing and conversation echoed from the other small group nearby. John smirked to himself as he realized he had just had the conversation with the best friend, being protective of Paul. If Paul had confided in George, John’s feelings were valid to be similar. He didn’t want to fuck this up, now more than ever he was going to have to decide what he was going to do.

It was still early in the night when he got back to his room. Slipped under the door threshold was a folded slip of notebook paper.

_“Room 1, see you soon”_

While he scrubbed the campfire smoke from his body, he took deep, calming breaths. He thought about Sean asleep in his room back home. The time away from him was a foreign feeling, but one that needed to happen. Would there be more frequent moments apart should he really and truly start something serious with Paul?

He vigorously lathered his hair, the soapy water running down his body, swirling a vortex down the drain. For this retreat to provide mental clarity, he was definitely finding himself in a deeper chasm of confusion. Tonight, he’d put it aside. Tuck it away like so many of the internal conflicts that had built up over the years.

He only had to tap once lightly at the door at the end of the hall, before the door creaked open. Dim light from candles flickered in the room. A slight smell of weed hung in the atmosphere while incense burned. An open window blew in the fresh night air, perfectly inviting.

“Took you long enough.” Paul looked glassy eyed and amused as he approached John, arms embracing him.

“Sorry, George and I got to playing and philosophizing.” John leaned in to kiss the lips that had been absent from him most of the day. He hungered for the taste, as his mouth kissed firmer.

Paul’s body pressed in closer, his thin robe opening to expose his half-aroused state within moments of connecting to John’s body. 

“Tell me what you want.” Paul whispered into the damp fringe behind his ear after he pulled away from the kiss.

John closed his eyes, feeling the tense muscles of Paul’s back beneath the robe. He let his callused fingers trace lightly up to the blades of his shoulders. He delved into Paul’s lips, bruising him with greedy nips of teeth. The twinge of stubble scraped over his chin, “I want…you, all of you….”

The heady scent of Paul was filling his mind with wild thoughts, the pliant mouth that melted into his tongue explorations would be the end of him. Panting and grinning, Paul led John to the bed. Kneeling in front of him, Paul’s hands stroked over his jogger covered legs. Moving higher to tuck fingers in the waistband, removing them in a quick motion.

Hovering over his cock, Paul whispered while peppering open mouthed kisses over his taunt thighs. “You can have me, but I want to taste you first.”

Paul’s mouth was perfect. Talented and soft, slow and wet he sucked his cock so good. John was aching as he gripped Paul’s hair to pull him off. “Now Paul, want you now.” His voice thick with arousal.

His pink, swollen lips met Johns, licking soft. The slight salt of his precum leaked onto Paul’s tongue as he settled into his lap, kissing harder now. Fingers fumbled as a condom was rolled down his shaft, “I’m going to ride you now. Is that alright?” Paul breathlessly spoke as the loose robe fell from his shoulder, exposing the chiseled, ivory collarbone John had to bite his approval into. 

Thighs spreading, opening completely, John angled Paul down. Guiding him lower with a firm grip on his tight ass. The encompassing warmth was dizzying as he pulled him closer. His mouth traced over every inch of Paul’s neck, tendons straining under the sensation filling him.

“Fuck John, you’ve got such a thick cock.” Paul shuddered as John’s hips thrusted up into him. They rocked together in a perfect rhythm that soon filled the room with the sinful sound of skin. Damp and hot, they kissed as if their thirst for one another would never be quenched.

Paul came first, the wetness hitting John’s bare chest, taunt with his own growing climax inside. When the tight grip on his cock pulsed John couldn’t hold on any longer. He allowed himself to cum as Paul clung to him in a sweaty tangle of limbs. John continued his mouth’s ministrations over the slick skin of Paul’s chest while their bodies relaxed apart.

Spooned together naked and spent John truthfully spoke as they lied on the narrow bed. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” His fingers traced little patterns over the freckles on Paul’s pale skin. Paul’s hand found his, bringing the long fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. “Mmm, I could stay here with you forever.” Paul sighed as he slumped back into John’s comforting embrace.

“Would you really?” John lightly teased as he licked at Paul’s earlobe causing him to giggle.

Now turning to face John, Paul cupped his cheek. Thumb brushing over the dimple in John’s smile. “I want everything with you John, but I- I don’t want to ruin this.” A brief look of uncertainty crossed his face as John took hold of his wrist to steady the emotion in Paul’s voice.

“I feel the same way.” John agreed, holding back as he pulled him closer. “But it’s too much. Isn’t it?” 

The look in Paul’s eyes had him captivated, as if neither of them were allowed to speak the truth. Fear holding them back from what they wanted. Leaning in to kiss John with a considerate touch, Paul spoke softly, “It is.”

For the rest of the night, the lovers held back as it remained unsaid. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr [@smothermeinrelish](https://smothermeinrelish.tumblr.com)


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